Let Me Lie
by kikis2
Summary: He loves Kurt, but he sees the way Quinn looks at Rachel. He see what no one else does, because it's the same way he looks at Rachel. S3 AU. Blaine/Rachel/Quinn


**A/N**: The timeline if pretty AU, but if you wanna see the crackiest crackship ever, just roll with it. I also haven't seen any of the third season…or most of the last, but I have been reading heaps of amazing fics by berrywarbler, so my canon destruction should be minimal.

}{

_Let Me Lie 1/2_

}{

_I'm insane, it's your fault, so sly_

_Your well of lies ran dry_

_And I cut the cord, free fall_

-Billy Talent

}{

He shouldn't be here.

He's new. And McKinley doesn't like new. Not unless it's wrapped in a size zero box-pleated skirt.

But Rachel wanted to confront Quinn and took Kurt as backup. He followed, because as much as he loves his boyfriend, unless the hygienically-challenged Skanks are after a makeover, Kurt's not exactly backup material.

"We need you Quinn. And I think you need New Directions too."

"Because show choir's done so much for me already," Quinn spits dismissively.

The two girls face off and he's glad he came. Even with the cautious distance between them, Rachel looks far too small.

Rachel's next words are lost somewhere between them, and the brunette moves closer to Quinn to keep it that way.

"Are they always like this?" he whispers in Kurt's ear.

"Like what?" Kurt's eyes are fixed gleefully on the drama playing out in front of them.

"All _vibey_." He gestures at the girls. Rachel's hand is now on Quinn's arm. He thinks he hears a gentle, _I hate seeing you sad_, which leaves Quinn caught somewhere between longing and annoyance.

Kurt turns to him in surprise. "Oh my God." He presses the back of his well-manicured fingers to Blaine's forehead. "Are you feeling alright? You haven't been watching those weird Japanese cartoons where freakishly long-legged girls fight both monsters and their lesbian impulses again, right?"

"That was one time," he mumbles, flushing.

He can see Rachel's hand grasp Quinn a little tighter. "Come back to us."

Quinn hesitates, almost taking a step forward, but she glances over her shoulder and her face ices over once more. "Stop wasting your breath, Treasure Trail. No matter how many losers you con into joining Geek Squad, your friend count will still be stuck at Tweedle Dim and Tweedle Queer."

Rachel spins on her heel with a huff and Kurt follows after her with comforting words.

He stays. There's a dullness to Quinn's voice that he can't turn away from.

She pulls out her cigarettes and tries to ignore him. He holds out a hand and she raises an eyebrow, but passes one to him and wordlessly lights it. The other Skanks lose interest and drift away.

"So, am I Tweedle Dim or Tweedle Queer?"

A soft burst of air leaves her lips in an almost-laugh. "I was referring to Finn and Kurt."

He nods, mildly relieved not to have worked his way into the cruel nomenclature of McKinley. Yet.

He breathes in a small dose of nicotine and lung cancer, managing not to grimace at the vile taste. He'd taken up smoking for a brief week at fourteen, but quickly decided his sexuality was probably torture enough for his parents.

"I didn't know you'd been around long enough to become friends with Rachel."

_It's_ there again. In the way Quinn says her name. Maybe he's the only one who can notice, because when he's not careful, he can hear it in his own voice as well.

Quinn glances down at her beat-up sandals, and Blaine knows he's not the only one who heard it.

"It didn't take me long," he responds eventually, hating all the coded meaning he can pick out in that sentence. Kurt deserves better. "She's right, you know."

Her hazel eyes meet his squarely for the first time and there's a resonance that catches his breath and stirs something painful in his chest.

"Glee's not going to make me happy," she murmurs softly.

"It might make you a little less sad."

She puts her smoke out against the bleacher, something fierce and uncomfortable on her face.

"You can go now."

It's not a suggestion.

}{

At Thursday's practice, Rachel waves happily to them and pats the seat beside her. Kurt sighs, but takes the seat, tugging Blaine behind him. Finn still hasn't arrived so the seat on her other side is free, but he knows his place. He sits beside Kurt and tries to figure out what teacher he and Rachel are talking about without letting them know he's still playing catch-up. Kurt's probably given him the run down three times before, but the bombardment of new names and useless details made his brain scream.

Rachel's face lights up as she catches sight of something behind them, but she doesn't give the usual blinding show-smile that signals Finn's arrival. This one is soft and sweet and when he can tear his eyes away, he realises it's not meant for anyone but Quinn.

Strangely, it doesn't make his stomach turn like Rachel's Finn-smile does.

Quinn's nose ring is missing and her hair is blonde. She's almost _too_ beautiful, even as she pales under the weight of Rachel's regard. He hopes she didn't take his words to heart, because whatever is going on doesn't seem to be making her any less sad. The effort it takes not to hold her hand in support makes his muscles twitch.

Kurt snatches his hand away, clicking his tongue in annoyance at the crescent imprint of Blane's nails. "Easy up there, Wolverine."

Blaine grabs his boyfriend's hand again and smooths the marks away gently with his thumb in apology. "Sorry."

Kurt goes back to gossiping about Ms. Pillsbury and Blaine begins to wonder if he's losing his mind.

How can he be the only one seeing this?

}{

He and Rachel partner up, because apparently their voices blend together almost as well as her and Finn's. He'll never know quite how he managed not to choke on his own tongue when Rachel came out with that one. It had to be love, because there was no way Finn Hudson was a better duet partner that him.

Rachel glances nervously over her shoulder at him as she unlocks her front door. "I'll prepare some snacks. You can watch television or something while you wait, if you want."

"It's fine. I can help." He follows her into the kitchen. And like every stranger in a kitchen, he manages to hinder her efforts more than help. Not that she complains.

"At first I thought we could cover Marron 5's newest song, because it would be just perfect for your voice, but I wasn't sure how it would sound once we remove the explicit sections. 'Be Italian' has a great tempo for us to show off out dance skills, but Mr. Schue hates when _I_ do anything even slightly risqué, and I don't want to taint _Nine _with his hypocritically puritanical regulations."

Blaine gives a silent prayer of thanks to whatever god was looking after his and Kurt's relationship by keeping Rachel Berry out of thigh highs.

"But then, I realised _everyone's_ probably expecting us to fall back into our comfort zones, which would mean either show tunes or contemporary pop," she finishes, madly dicing strawberries.

He bites his tongue on the One Direction song he was going to suggest. "You're not going to let them treat us as if we're _predictable_, are you?"

"Of course not!"

"Shall I prepare a Ramones discography for your perusal then?"

Rachel blanches. "Well, I don't think we should necessarily lead with my weakest genre—not that I have a weak genre! I just think—" Her eyes slide to him from lowered lashes. "You're laughing at me, aren't you?"

"Not at all. But we've got a week and we're experts." He picks up the fruit salads, gently knocking her hip with his own. "Relax a little."

She hides a smile as she grabs drinks out of the fridge.

"Where am I taking these anyway?"

"The Oscar room is probably best equipped for our practice."

"The site of our ill-fated romance?" he teases, his grin a little tight.

He juggles the desert cups to open the basement door for Rachel and their drinks. Rachel eyes him sullenly as she passes.

"If I had a hand free, I'd hit you right now."

"If I wasn't so thirsty, I'd let you," he promises.

}{

He needs this so, _so_ much.

He knows if he could just keep Kurt's mouth on his, and Kurt's hands all over him forever, he'd never think about another person.

Kurt's lips taste like strawberry lip balm, and his hair smells like candy-flavoured firming spray. And Blaine _loves_ him.

He loves the way Kurt giggles every time he kisses that place behind his ear. And he loves the way Kurt's hands are so soft, but so strong as they roam over his shoulders.

Kurt is his boyfriend and he doesn't need Rachel's cherry lip balm or citrus smelling shampoos.

The bedroom door bangs open with a loud clatter. "Oh Jesus! _Christ_…What the—"

"Finn!" Kurt pulls himself away, squealing, which only makes Finn let out an echoing screech.

Blaine can finally see the frazzled footballer. FInn spins and hunches into the wall, his hands holding his head to block out even his peripheral vision of the scene. "Um, dinner is…Yeah. God, I'm _so_ _sorry_."

Kurt just laughs, throwing a decorative cushion at his stepbrother's head. "You can leave now, Finn. We got the message: 'dinner _is_'. We're all good."

Finn leaves with another mumbled apology, still shading his vision.

Blaine rolls his eyes.

"What's that look for?" Kurt asks, laughter still in his voice.

"Could your brother be any less mature and still mentally capable of bathing himself?"

Kurt gives him a searching look. "You don't like Finn?"

Blaine focuses on straightening his clothes and sweeping back his hair. "Finn's okay. I mean, whatever. It's just…Why does everybody like him so much?"

Kurt's grin is lightning fast. "Because he's six foot _amazing_, the quarterback, and has that dreamy, all-American boy-next-door persona?"

"He's not _that_ tall."

"Aww. I've never seen this side of you," Kurt commented, fixing his own collar with a critical eye.

"What side?"

"All childish and jealous. My crush is, like, so sophomore year, and what kind of portmanteau is _Furt _anyway?"

Blaine swallows reflexively. "I better go. See you tomorrow."

He practically throws himself into his car, letting the guilt wash over him.

He hadn't even remembered Kurt's crush.

}{

He usually loves the way the town library is always empty, but at night it can get a little creepy. On the second floor there's no librarian, and nothing to remind him that there's still a functioning world outside these walls. The feeling of isolation makes him ill at ease, but it's still better than going home and listening to his mom prattle on about how pretty Cooper's new girlfriend is, or listening to his father refer to Kurt as "_that_ boy".

He's not surprised when he sees her bent over a deserted group table, head resting on her palm, tips of her blonde hair caressing the words in front of her. She's the only familiar face he ever sees in here.

"Hey."

She looks up, the tiredness in her face instantly replaced with cool regard. "Hi Blaine."

"Can I sit?"

She gestures to the table. "If you can find room."

He's not sure whether she's making a joke or making fun of him, so he just gives a weak smile and pulls out the chair two away from hers. He's not stupid enough to invade Quinn's hazard-ridden personal space.

He studies his legal studies textbook in silence, subtly glancing up every few minutes to check Quinn still hadn't turned a page in her book.

"Exam?" He cringes at how loud his voice seems.

Quinn holds up her novel so he can see the cover of _Vanity Fair_.

"And the dusty, yet somehow mildly terrifying Lima Library sets the mood for you?"

There's a small quirk to Quinn's lips as she shakes her head. "I'm just not ready to go home yet."

Her melancholy tone echoes in that hollow space in his chest that seems all the more noticeable when Quinn's around.

"I know the feeling," he admits.

A comfortable quiet settles over them and he only breaks it when it's almost time to leave.

"Do you…" _Love Rachel Berry_?

He _has_ to ask. For reasons even he doesn't understand.

"Do I _what_?" Her eyes challenge him as she softly closes her book.

He swallows his question and can't meet her challenge. "Need a lift? The library's about to close."

"No. I only live around the block."

"Still, it's pretty late."

"I'll walk," she insists, throwing her tote over her shoulder.

There's something in her voice that closes his mouth on any other argument.

}{

Rachel clutches his hand so tightly his pinky turns blue.

"We will win this," Rachel whispers ferociously, her eyes narrowed on Santana and Artie.

The duo were performing Ginuwine's "Pony" and managing to make it both erotic and repulsive. He could tell by Mr. Schuester's strangled look, Rachel was right about keeping the material PG.

Santana finishes up the act with a sultry smile that makes even Kurt uncomfortable

"I'm not sure it's a competition," he replies, just hoping Rachel would loosen her grip.

"Oh, it is. And we are going to win it."

Santana saunters past them on the way to her seat. "Don't get your teeny, tiny hopes up Berry and Merry. Me and Wheels got this one wrapped up."

"Merry?" he questions.

"Man-Berry," Brittany answers in her monotone from behind them.

Santana smirks in approval. "And just in case there was any confusion, you're girl-Berry," she informs him.

He turns around, mildly stunned by his formal introduction to McKinley nicknames. "Okay, Rach, we are going to beat them," he says carefully.

Rachel golf claps and he thinks there's a chance all of his fingers will survive.

_Like sweet morning dew, I took one look at you _

_And it was plain to see you were my destiny_

The first notes are always the hardest to hit, but he nails them and Rachel's answering song is just as perfect as he expected.

_With arms open wide I threw away my pride__  
I'll sacrifice for you, dedicate my life to you_

She dances towards him from the other side of the room, her hips swaying and fingers beckoning, as if he could do anything but close the distance between them. By the time their voices join his hands are on her waist and her hands are braced against his chest.

_There's no, no looking back for us__  
We got love sure enough, that's enough__  
You're all, you're all I need to get by_

Her voice washes over him, sinks _through_ him. His blood rushes frantically through his limbs, making him feel _alive_, and there's not enough left to reach his brain and stop him from pressing his body into hers till he can feel her skin through their clothes, the muscles moving in her body as she fills her body with air to belt out her next lines.

_Don't know what's in store but together we can open any door__  
Just to do what's good for you and inspire you a little higher_

Rachel's fingers trail down the side of his face, and he knows it's just because she's too much the actress to do anything but follow his lead, but her fingers, and her breath, and her eyes locked on his feel _real_ and far too good. He has to push away before she can feel his body hardening under her touch.

_I know you can make a man out of a soul that didn't have a goal_

He plays his fumble into their routine, moving behind Rachel so he can't get ensnared again. He searches the glee club for the familiar blue gaze he needs to remember himself, but Kurt and Mercedes are singing to each other through laughter, completely unaware that Blaine's about to drown. Instead, he finds hazel eyes fixed on his, anchoring and inescapable. Quinn's face is glacial and oh so knowing.

_'Cause we, we got the right foundation and with love and determination__  
You're all, you're all I want to strive for and do a little more__  
You're all, all the joys under the sun wrapped up into one__  
You're all, you're all I need, you're all I need, you're all I need to get by_

He finishes the song, never breaking Quinn's punishing gaze.

_You're all, you're all I need, you're all I need, you're all I need to get by_

If this was a competition, he knows he was the only loser.

}{

The music room clears out, and he makes some mumbled excuse to Kurt, so that he can stay behind and bury his head in his hands. His hands that were still shaking. He can't believe he'd practically dry humped his boyfriend's best friend in front of their glee club. What the fuck was wrong with him? Kurt deserved better. _Nobody_ deserved this.

Quinn walks in soundlessly. "Melophilia much?"

He doesn't look up, but can hear her take the seat in the row in front of him. "That obvious, huh?"

"Only to me. I think."

He scrubs a hand over his eyes and tries to centre himself with a deep breath. "And I thought we'd chosen a safe song. Well, as far as Marvin Gaye goes at least."

"Guess there's no such thing as a safe Gaye."

"Har har. Really, Quinn?"

She half-smiles. "Yep. Went there."

"What am I going to do?"

Quinn answers the question he really hadn't been asking anyone, "You not going to do what you're thinking about doing."

"And how do you know what I'm thinking about doing?"

"Most of New Directions just saw what you were thinking about doing."

"Enough. _Please_," he groans.

"Blaine," the seriousness of her tone forces him to finally look at her, "you cannot go after Rachel. You can't do that to Kurt, but mostly you can't do that to her."

"I wasn't going to—"

"Good," she interrupts.

Her comment makes him angry for no reason he wants to contemplate. "Why are you telling me this? For Kurt? For her? Or for _you_?

Her face is impassive. "If you try, she will fall for you. Because that's who Rachel is. She can't say no to love, not even when she should. And Kurt will despise her for it. And Finn will too. And I wasn't joking the other day. Finn and Kurt are the only people in this school who really care about her."

"And me," he reminds her.

"And you," she allows.

"And you?" He makes it into a question, even though he knows the answer.

"Yes," Quinn replies evenly, "she's got that too. For all it's worth."

"I think—I think I'm going to break up with Kurt." He hadn't thought about it before he said it, but it was out there now and he wasn't going to take it back. The words settle around him and something in him loosens.

Quinn's eyes slam shut, and her pale lids twitch with the effort to control her face.

"Just because you can torture yourself by abusing the girl you—whatever you feel for her—doesn't mean I can do the same. It's not for Rachel, I'm just not going to keep doing this to Kurt."

Quinn holds up a hand, and he finally feels the full weight of her glare. "You don't know a _thing_ about it, so don't even try. And don't tell me that you're dumping your boyfriend to _not_ go after Rachel, because I don't believe you."

"And I don't care what you believe. You're a coward Quinn and for everything that I'd heard about you, I never thought that would be true."

Quinn flinches, but holds her head slightly higher. "Fine. Do what you want, Blaine. Destroy every relationship Rachel's painstakingly built, but don't you dare falter when all she's got left is _you_ and the weight of lonely, needy Rachel becomes too much for you to bear." She gathers her books and stands.

He's not sure how this degenerated so fast. He doesn't even know the too-beautiful, too-sad girl in front of him.

"Kurt described every member of New Directions to me long before I transferred."

Quinn hesitates, confused by the change in conversation.

"When he told me about you, he said, 'beneath all those layers of pretty lays the true heart of darkness'."

The edge of her lips tilt up almost imperceptibly. "You know you've got a real thing for over-dramatic types, right?"

"So do you."

Quinn just nods jerkily, her eyes on the exit.

"Will you tell me? Those things I don't know about you and Rachel?"

His words just send her further away. "I can't. Not right now. I'll explain, but I just—not right now. Wait until I can, before you do anything? Just give me that," she pleads.

She's already gone when he silently agrees.

}{

**E/N**: Song Blaine and Rachel sing is "You're All I Need to Get By" by Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell.

\/ Reviews are cool. Hint. \/


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